


Breaking, Keeping

by APgeeksout



Category: NXT, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Casual Sex, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-08
Updated: 2015-08-08
Packaged: 2018-04-13 14:38:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4525842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/APgeeksout/pseuds/APgeeksout
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes being the man means you get to be with the woman.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breaking, Keeping

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mithen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mithen/gifts).



> Set around the middle of Sami's (first? she said hopefully) NXT Title reign, and working from your head-canon that the men's and women's champions traditionally have a celebratory hook-up when the titles change hands.

Day One back at the Performance Center had been kind of a mixed bag. He hadn't been cleared to spar yet.  Wasn't technically supposed to be doing much more than basic conditioning according to the simple routines his physical therapist had approved. Still, it had felt good, being back on home turf.

Even if he had to share it now.

He'd been fishing his gear bag out of the trunk when he'd felt the prickle of someone's intent stare, and a glance across the parking lot had revealed Kevin, watching from behind the wheel of his own little sedan. Sami couldn't see beyond the front seat on account of the angle and the distance - and, if he were being honest with himself, because of how fucked-up he was over this thing with Kevin - but he knew there was a babyseat in the back. Knew there were little packs of animal crackers in the console and action figures tucked into the pockets on the backs of the seats. Knew that at this time of day, Kevin was probably headed to first the daycare and then the elementary school and on to the park, giving his wife an hour to herself between work and dinner. Knew a thousand dumb little things about Kevin's family because until R-evolution, he'd thought he was a part of it too.

He might have stood there all day, with the sun beating down into the black cotton of his Rancid shirt and his stomach churning and his dry throat full of stupid things he was absolutely not going to scream across the expanse of asphalt. He was rescued from himself by the voice that carried from behind him.

"Sami Zayn, Sami Zayn! Feelin' no pain! Back in town to make it rain!"

He'd never been so relieved to see a certified G and bona fide stud.

"I dunno about that one, 'Zo," Cass said, giving Sami a _how you doing?_ nod as his partner pulled him into a quick, fierce hug.

"Needs somethin'," Carmella agreed, narrowed eyes following Kevin's course out of the lot. He didn't squeal the tires or anything, but it seemed to Sami like he was going unnecessarily fast; he wasn't exactly proud of the grim satisfaction that planted in his gut, and he tried to shake it off as Carmella turned back to him with a warmer smile.

"Yeah, well, we can work on it, now that we got the Champ back," Enzo said, clapping him on the chest for good measure.

Left to his own devices, he might have wilted back into the car and retreated back to his apartment and some X-box. But, he wasn't alone here; never had been.

Enzo started a rapid-fire recap of everything he'd missed, while Cass gave an indulgent _whaddya gonna do?_ shake of his head and slung Sami's bag over his shoulder alongside his own, and Carmella linked her arm through his, and Sami had let them buoy him and sweep him into the Performance Center with them.

Now, freshly showered, with a double order of the cafeteria's weirdly-delicious stir-fry in front of him, and the satisfying kind of post-exertion tiredness - so different from the dull weariness that had dogged him ever since Kevin first introduced his back to the apron - settling over him, he was glad he'd stuck it out.

A few steady raps on the table drew him out of his thoughts, and he looked up to find Charlotte, protein shake in hand, hair pulled into a loose bun.

"Heard you were back." She smiled and perched on the seat across from him.

"Word travels fast."

"Good news usually does," she offered, "You look good. How d'you feel?"

"I've had better days," he said, "but not, like, recently."

She smiled wryly. "Well, maybe I can help keep things looking up. I know things went kind of," Charlotte paused and made a vague gesture, going for diplomacy in a way that he realized suddenly that she'd rarely had occasion to practice in the women's division, " _sideways_ after R-evolution, but tradition is tradition." She shrugged. "I don't have anybody special right now, and if you don't either, then the offer's open."

Sami felt himself blush - the curse of his coloring - and knew that Charlotte had noticed when her smile ticked up a notch.

"I, ah, yeah, that sounds great," he said, fidgeting a little with his silverware. He hadn't been a gawky kid for a lot of years, but he kind of didn't think he'd ever outgrow the feeling of surprised wonder at the idea of beautiful women seeking him out with this kind of proposition. "I'm free later," he added.

It probably wasn't the coolest he'd ever been. He guessed he was supposed to be more aloof or something, but phoniness had never served him well in the ring, and he was willing to take a flier that it would do much for him outside it either. He knew he'd figured right when Charlotte grinned broadly.

"Perfect," she said. "There's a few things I need to wrap up here, but I could drop by your place around eight?"

 

 

 

And so, he'd spent the time in between straightening up his apartment. He wasn't a huge slob by nature, but between going home to Montreal and the dullness that'd followed him back here, he knew he'd let a lot of little things go by the wayside over the last few weeks.

Maybe Charlotte wasn't looking to be wined and dined, but clean sheets just seemed like basic politeness.

And, though he wouldn't have called it that afternoon, amazingly, eight-thirty found him effectively pinned against those fresh sheets, Charlotte's knees bracketing his hips, the fabric of her skirt pooling smooth and cool against his bare stomach.

"This okay for your back?" she asked, solicitous even though only part of her weight rested against him just now.

"I'm way, way better than okay," he assured, and settled his hands on the soft skin of her thighs.

Back when he was barely more than a kid, working shows for gas money and leftover popcorn, he'd briefly dated a ballerina, all long legs and lean muscle. As his fingers followed the subtle definition of Charlotte's thighs up beneath her skirt, he couldn't help but wonder what had happened to the dancer he hadn't thought of in years: was she like him, living the dream she'd had then? More like Charlotte, and working on a second plan for her life?

And then Charlotte tipped forward to kiss him - more cautious at first than he would have guessed about her - and he quit thinking about anyone or anything else for a little while. She braced her weight against the mattress with one hand, while the other landed lightly on his chest. Her hair spilled over her shoulders into the space between them and tickled his face and neck. He shifted one hand from her leg up to sweep a section of hair back from her face, and she pulled back from the kiss to smile down at him a little crookedly.

He'd always liked Charlotte, and figured the feeling was mutual, but they'd never been especially close.  This moment was easily the most intimate they'd ever been. The tension between them wasn't unpleasant or heavy, but he still found himself looking for ways to diffuse it.

"Maybe because it took me so long to get here, but I, uh, kind of thought that the whole 'Champions-have-a-fling' thing might be an urban legend?" he offered.

She laughed, low and throaty. "No, it's real alright. That," she said, stroking her hand down his chest, "or I really wanted to seduce you, even though I thought you'd be gullible enough to fall for 'it's tradition'."

It was his turn to laugh while she drew back up, still easily straddling him, to pull her shirt over her head and cast it aside. "Really, you could have just done that. That would definitely have worked."

"Yeah?" she asked, rolling her hips languidly against his with another wicked grin.

His breath caught a little at that, even with too many layers still between them. He let his hands travel back up the length of her legs and beneath her skirt, pressing his thumbs into the crease of her hips over soft lace and the angles of body.

She rocked against him again, slow and deliberate, and reached back to unfasten her bra and toss it off in the general direction of her shirt.

They were quiet for a while then, exploring each others' bodies in the waning sunlight that filtered through the blinds. Charlotte easily had more impressive abs than his own, and of course he'd seen as much in her ring gear, but this was the first time he'd had permission to touch. More license than he'd taken on his own, if the way she placed his hands on her own skin as they gradually shed their remaining clothes was anything to go on.

He wondered fleetingly how this might have gone differently if they'd had the chance to do it on the night of Takeover, both of them still singing with post-match adrenaline. A little less tentative, he supposed.  Another part of the satisfaction of taking the Title that Kevin had ripped from him.

Charlotte stretched out loose and lazy next to him, and he stroked over the curve of her hip to slip his fingers between her thighs - not as brazen as the stereotype of "professional wrestling champion" called for, maybe, but bolder than he'd been earlier. She repositioned his hand once more, drawing it against her wet heat in a short, steady stroke that he tried to maintain as she curled her arm around him, blunt nails digging into his shoulder, scratching lightly down his back as she moved against him. When she surged up into his touch with a low, ragged noise spilling from the back of her throat, it wasn't quite like winning the championship, but it definitely felt like an achievement.

 

 

 

"So, you can totally kick my ass if I'm overstepping," he said, and passed the milk to Charlotte where she sat at his kitchen table, wearing the boxers and Break Orbit t-shirt she'd borrowed when they'd rolled out of bed, "but, you and Adrian?"

She poured a measure over the bowl of Froot Loops from his cheat day stash, now doing midnight-snack duty, and laughed. "Not me. He was already in pretty deep over Breeze by the time I picked up the Women's title."

They shared a smile over Adrian and Tyler: worst kept secret at NXT.

"Tradition is tradition," she continued, "but I don't mess with anything that might be real, you know?"

He took the chair across from her, and they both tucked into their cereal, the quiet more companionable than awkward now.

"I know I'm kind of fixating on this," he said eventually, "but 'Ric Flair, 16-time World Heavyweight Champion'. Did you ever look at his reigns and figure out--"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" She pointed her spoon at him in a quelling gesture. "I'm stopping you right there," she said, voice stern as the one she used for cutting promos backstage, "because if this is ever going to happen again, I really need for neither of us to be thinking about my father."

He laughed, both abashed and surprised. "Again? Is that on the table?"

"Feels pretty sturdy," she said, rapping her knuckles on the wooden surface. "We could give it a shot."

Even after what they'd already done together, he felt the color creep up his neck and into his cheeks again, and it was Charlotte's turn to laugh again.

"I know neither of us has any intention of losing our Titles any time soon, so it's going to be a while before we can blame it on tradition again." She shrugged. "But, as long as neither of us is seeing anyone, I'd be up for another round. I mean, this has been pretty good for me, and if I can say so, you look a lot less tense than this afternoon."

"You could say that," he nodded. "I'm in."

Charlotte smiled and sent up a pleased, "Woo!"


End file.
